Re-Watch Drabbles
by cosmictrap
Summary: A series of largely NESS drabbles [and other characters at times too, because really, everyone was underused as hell]. All the drabbles will be unrelated (I will mention if it is otherwise). Will include Romance, Friendship, Family, Fluff, Angst, Smut; basically everything.
1. 1x01: Are You Gonna Murder Me

**1x01: "Are you gonna murder me?"**

* * *

Nick Miller was annoyed. Really annoyed. And that was why, for the third morning in a row, he found himself running out in the streets of L.A. with his hood up, underneath which he was wearing an expression that would later be christened 'the turtle face'. For the first time in days, maybe even weeks, he had been feeling an emotion other than the urge to cry into a pillow. Oddly enough, he wished that was what he felt at that moment. It felt easier to"feel" if he was being honest with himself.

His new roommate was the newest "problem" in his never-ending list of problems. The loft had a different vibe to it now, and Nick was indecisive about whether or not he liked the new vibe.

He could smell the softest touch of vanilla everywhere he went in the loft, even his room. _His room was only allowed to smell of beer._ The loft also seemed a lot brighter after her arrival, which was odd given how nothing much had changed. He frowned at that, wondering if he was just imagining that.

 _What a weird thing to imagine._

And ever since she'd moved in, the number of times he had seen her cry? He'd lost count. At this point, he'd do anything to stop her tears.

He could grudgingly admit at least in his mind that she was a nice person. Unusually nice, in his opinion. She seemed like the sort of person to enjoy life, because really, what sort of a person would venture going home from the airport in just a coat. In a cab. The thought makes him chuckle a little, and he wonders if she actually took the pain to change out of her clothes at the airport.

He also found himself thinking that this Spencer guy was a grade 1 type of douche bag, because why would anyone break the heart of such a good person? She definitely deserved better than that.

Not that he liked her or anything. He still found her as annoying; except that she was _nice._ So innocent that it was borderline fascinating.

 _Then why do I dislike her?_

 _Okay, 'dislike' is a strong word. I don't dislike her._

 _Then what do I feel for….. (Stop that!)_

 _Nothing. I feel nothing._

He decides that she was a nice person who cried a little too much and that made him really uncomfortable. He, like any other person, wasn't too fond of being uncomfortable. So he wished she would stop crying. Because, you know, he didn't want to feel so "uncomfortable."

 _That's ridiculous._

Scoffed an unwelcome voice in the back of his head, and he found himself back at square one; unable to figure out what exactly was going on. And also back at the apartment, having gone around the block twice already. Sighing, he walked into the building (struggling a bit with the door as always, and therefore, even more irritable than before) and before he entered the loft, he prayed _she_ wouldn't be there.

But of course, she was.

 _Dirty Dancing_ was _still_ playing on TV, and she was _still_ lying on the couch in the same flannel pyjamas from last night.

(He wasn't observing these things on purpose, obviously. Flannel always just stood out to him. Duh.)

"No, I don't think so," she was saying into her phone.

Hopeful that she wouldn't notice him and praying that she wouldn't talk to him, he tried to sneak past her, but felt slightly ridiculous. She was his roommate now and how long could he possibly avoid her? And _why_ was he even avoiding her? It was not like she was going to engage in meaningless chatter or anything, she was too busy crying. He paused in his track, frustrated again by the flurry of indecision in his head.

Before he could make a decision, Jess spotted him and craned her neck to ask, "Hey, are you gonna murder me 'cause you're a stranger I met on the internet?"

"Yes, I am," he muttered in response, pausing to give her what he hoped was a glare.

* * *

 **A/N: Watching the premier reminded me of this bit in the first season for some reason, and I realised that he's already supposed to be low-key in love with her at this point i.e. 1x01. He just doesn't know it yet.**

 **And thence this little drabble was born.**


	2. 3x20: Serious Hangovers

**3x20: "Never talk about anything serious when you're hungover."**

* * *

The air is thick with tension and Jess knows she shouldn't be saying this out loud, but her stupid, booze-addled brain seemed to have lost connection with her mouth.

"Yeah, sometimes I think about what our kid would be like," she says in a matter-of-fact voice because she knows that there was no taking back the statement now. Despite the warning bells in her head, she asks hesitantly. "Don't you?"

"Yeah," he says, so unconvincingly that she knows he's lying and her heart sinks.

"You don't think about the future?" she asks, starting to hate the despair that she could hear so clearly in her own voice.

"Can we not talk about this right now?" he says frustratedly, rubbing his eyes. "Six hours ago, I was lapping cognac out of Winston's hands!"

She can feel the tears pooling in her eyes as she stares at him. Her throat is dry and she wants to say something, anything, but she knows they're walking on thin ice. She has already said too much and her heart is beating really fast because what if she's finally said something that'll drive him away?

She knows things have been a little different and difficult lately, especially since Abby had come and gone. They'd been treading on dangerous waters for quite some time, but then Nick is staring at her with an apprehensive, but a gentle sort of expression.

"Never talk about anything serious when you're hungover, Jess," he says quietly.

"I don't even really think about it that much," she says nervously because she needs to make it clear to him that she is just as not- serious about this as he is. Or at least make it seem that way. "I just think about, you know, passing things….Just…. Nothing specific..." she mumbles. "We live in a house by a lake."

"Jessica," he says, voice deathly low and she hears the warning in it.

There's a part of her that's disappointed and she realizes that she was hoping that this would somehow lead to The Talk. Everything would be out in the open and true, they'd be at an impasse, but at least she'd know. She'd know if she was only one that was all in.

But there's another part of her that loves him. Loves him so much that even the thought of the slightest disagreement putting an end to what they were, terrifies her.

So she gives him a watery smile and looks at him, and trying to keep her voice steady, she says quietly, "Alright, okay." Then adds in a resigned voice. "You're right. Nothing serious. When we're hungover."

He sighs in relief and closes the distance between them and envelopes her in his arms. He kisses the top of her head and she clings on to his shirt, trying to squish down the worry gnawing at her heart. It never ceases to amaze her how much she loves him, and she has no doubts about his love for her. She knew he did. But she's consumed by the worry that maybe once again, she's loving more. That she's investing more. And this was Nick. She wasn't sure how well she'd handle losing him.

 _If_ she'll even be able to handle losing him at all.

"Now let's get to building your godson's gift, shall we?"

"Okay," she mumbles and holds on to him for a few seconds longer to make sure that her tears are completely dried up.

She draws back from him and he smiles at her before kissing her lips. At least in that moment, she feels like everything would be okay. His fingers thread through her hair as she deepens the kiss, and suddenly he's kissing her urgently. His hands snake around her waist and hers have bunched his shirt tightly, pulling him into her.

She realizes that he knows that they had narrowly just avoided a dangerously deep pitfall, and she feels tears pool into her eyes again. She tries to contain them behind her closed lids but a few escape. He draws back to stare at her with a sombreness she's not seen before and then, kisses her tears away. He kisses her lips gently once again, and tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, says, "Why don't you go take a shower and I'll finish this before you're out?"

"Sounds good, Nick," she says, trying to smile fully at him.

He pulls her into a hug again and tells her quietly, "We will talk about this, okay?"

"I love you," he says, and he takes her face between his hands and says with emphasis. "More than anything."

"I love you, too," she says, smiling at him before she kisses his cheek.

 _What if that's the only thing we have in common?_


	3. 6x15: I'll Always Love You

"...And I'll always love you…"

The moment she uttered those words, something inside her broke. The truth of the statement terrified her, and all the implications came crashing around her. She watched mutely as Reagan walked over to where Nick was hiding and attempted to talk him out of there. She wanted to avert her eyes and run away, but her gaze remained fixed on the two of them; she wasn't sure why. Maybe because sometimes, as difficult as it might be, reality needed to sink in.

Nick had moved on.

She forced herself to recite that in her head, and though it hurt her, she knew she had to come to terms with it. She desperately tried to concentrate on all the reasons she had told herself with regard to why they wouldn't work out. But she realized with a sinking feeling that none of those things held true anymore; he had changed.

For Reagan.

And that had to mean something. It had to mean something that he was trying so hard for Reagan.

She started to feel a little sick and just then, Nick caught her eye over Reagan's shoulder, still crouched in the tiny house. She tried to return the smile he was giving her, but she was sure that it came off as something else entirely because Nick's smile contorted into a look of concern. Reagan followed his gaze and stood up, with a small frown.

"Jess, are you okay?" she asked, inching towards her.

Nick emerged behind her and took a step towards her, but Jess reflexively stepped back. "I'm fine, guys. I just… need some fresh air," she said, finally managing a watery smile before spinning around on her heels and hurrying out, praying neither of the them would follow her.

She stepped out onto the pavement and breathed deeply, trying to collect her thoughts. She couldn't let the feelings fester, she knew that. There had to be a plan of action. She had to do something, anything, to stop feeling so miserable all the time.

"Jess, are you-"

"Dammit, Nick!", she groaned in frustration and her hand flew to her head as she tried to massage her temples.

He caught her by the elbow and spun her around to face him, but she kept her gaze fixed on the floor.

"Jess, what is it?" he asked quietly.

"I said I'm fine," she said through grit teeth, desperately needing to get away from him before she said or did something stupid.

"No it isn't," he insisted, not letting her go.

"Nicholas," she said, looking up at him, swallowing thickly before saying, "I am fine. I needed air."

"Jess-"

She yanked her arm away from his grip, and took a step back shaking her head. "I'm fine, Nick!" she said, starting to get defensive.

Nick stood there unsurely for a few seconds, and he could practically feel the agitation radiating from her. He knew it would be conceited to ask what he had on his mind, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"Jess, is it Reagan? Do you feel-"

"Don't!" she said loudly, cutting him off, her voice shaking slightly. "Just get back inside, will you?" she sighed, waving dismissively at him.

He doesn't. He decides to stand there till she tells him.


	4. 6x22: Pepperwood He blew it

**6x22: "Pepperwood... he blew it."**

* * *

"... Pepperwood... He blew it..."

She stands rooted to the spot, eyes wide.

 _Is that what he really thinks?_

As he continues to talk, she doesn't move, willing him to look at her. It takes a moment, but when he finally does, he trails away mid-sentence.

She raises her hand and gives him a small, hesitant wave with an equally hesitant smile. His face lights up and he starts to grin, before the happiness is replaced by confusion. She feels herself shrink a little when she sees his confusion being visibly replaced by anger.

She knows exactly what that is about. So she backs away just a little bit, but Nick has already announced an abrupt, short break. She is almost at the door when she feels his grip on her elbow as he spins her around to face him.

"Where the _hell_ have you been!?"

"Hello to you too, Miller," she mutters, not looking at him.

Ignoring her comment, be continues. "You just up and left! Why didn't you take my calls!? Do you have any idea how worried I was! I was-"

"Nick, I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"-Worried sick and no one would tell me anything, and that was so annoying! I even spoke to your dad and all he could say was ask me something weird about sharks and-"

She places her palms on his chest lightly, and looking up at him, says gently, "/Nick./"

He stops talking and breathes exhales deeply, eyes closed as he tries to compose himself.

"I'm sorry I left," she says, trying to catch his eye.

"Why did you leave?" he asks, visibly calmer now.

"I... Needed some time... _Away_ ," she says slowly, looking away.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, clearly concerned, a small frown forming between his brows. "Don't you deny it, I know something's been off lately."

She smiles a little at him. "I think I'll be okay now."

"But what happened, Jess? You haven't been yourself in a long time and I'm sorry I took so long to-"

"Nick," she cuts him off. "It's okay. Not your fault."

He shakes his head, pleading, "Tell me what-"

"Wow, you're not giving that up, are you?" she jokes but relents when she sees his serious, unchanging face.

She sighs. "Alright, fine. Let's talk about this later? At the loft?"

"Yeah," he nods. "Sounds good."

She nods back at him and starts to leave, but he catches her hand. "Wait. I'll wrap this up and we'll go back together?"

"Sure," she says, stopping at the door.

As he starts to go back to the table, she calls out to him. "Hey, Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"Just so you know," she starts. "Pepperwood didn't blow it. It was Jessica Knight who did. She thinks too much sometimes, you know? And um, she wishes she hadn't."

Nick stands rooted to the spot, staring at her for sometime before starting to smile a little. "I guess both of them were idiots, huh?"

"I guess they were," she agrees.


	5. 7x08: Reginald VelJohnson

**7x08: Reginald VelJohnson**

* * *

No one had slept for hours, except maybe Ruth. The four-year-old had passed out like a light the second the it was 9 p.m.

"What is taking Jess so long?" groaned Schmidt as he rested his head on Cece's shoulder with a yawn.

"She's giving birth, Schmidt," said Cece, stifling a yawn as well. "It's not like she can just… pop a kid out of her in minutes."

"Honestly, I'm just surprised an unconscious Nick hasn't been wheeled out of there yet," chuckled Aly, having just arrived; Winston and Aly were alternating their parent duty for the night.

Everyone agreed vehemently and were in the middle of some more complaining when they heard the sound of a baby cry. Almost as if in sync, everyone jumped out of their seats, Schmidt punching the air screaming, "Finally!"

At the same time, Nick came through the doors, pale and sweaty but an exhausted grin on his face. "It's a boy!"

"A boy?" muttered Schmidt, eyebrows quirked as his mind took him down a memory lane.

A few minutes later, Nick was sitting by Jess's bed, his hand caressing her hair gently. The two of them watched their friends coo over their little boy, while Schmidt was standing in the doorway thoughtfully, unnoticed.

Jess was staring at the bundle in blue that was asleep in Cece's arms, with a tired but happy smile. Nick kept looking at Jess every few seconds, still in awe of sorts that she had just given birth to their child.

As Cece carefully handed the baby back to Nick, she asked, "So, have you guys thought of a name yet?"

"Actually-" started Jess, but Schmidt cut her off.

"Jessica, I don't know if Nick ever told you this, but-"

"Oh, god, Schmidt? Really?" groaned Nick, wanting to punch his best friend in the face.

"Of course, Nicholas. I won the bet, fair and square. And a bet is a bet, and must be honoured," he said, shrugging at Nick before turning to Jess. "So, as I was saying, Nicholas had lost a bet with me a couple of years ago and-"

"-and he was supposed to name his firstborn Reginald VelJohnson? Yeah, he mentioned it once. I remember... vaguely," muttered Jess.

"Oh, so he told you," said Schmidt, clearly pleased, also clearly oblivious to the glare Cece was giving him. "That's great, so you know what to do."

Jess scrunched her nose and looked at Nick, with an expression that clearly said _I can't believe he's bringing this up, is he serious?_

"Oh, don't give him that look, Jessica, I'm dead serious," said Schmidt, very seriously.

"I'm not naming our son, Reginald VelJohnson, Schmidt!" exclaimed Nick, while Jess tried to seek help from Cece.

"It's not that bad,' insisted Schmidt. "It means king! And-"

"I don't have megalomaniac tendencies like you, Schmidt!" retorted Nick. "My son doesn't need them either!"

"Hey, I was going to talk about wisdom and elegance and such, but go off, I guess," muttered Schmidt.

" _Go off, I guess?_ " said Nick, frowning. "What the heck does that mean?"

"It's just something that young people say these days, keep up, Nicholas, you have one now!" said Schmidt. "You have to honour that bet, my man!"

"Hey, he's my son too!" said Jess, trying to sit up on the bed. "And I refuse to-"

"But it's a bet!" argued Schmidt. "Bets are meant to be followed through! Besides, imagine little Reggie Miller, running around in a Cubs jersey. Reggie, has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"Schmidt-" started Nick again, trying to reason with him. "My wife just brought my son into this world. Today is supposed to be a happy day, I am supposed to be filled with joy but you're not letting me feel my feelings, Schmidt!" he groaned. "Can we just do this tomorrow?"

"Fine," said Schmidt, narrowing his eyes at both Jess and Nick. " _Tomorrow._ "

With that, Schmidt stormed out of the room, leaving everyone staring after him. Seconds later, he came back in, lips pursed. "It seemed like the perfect moment to storm out."

"Besides, I haven't been formally introduced to my godson yet. So, I'm going to stay."

Nick exchanged a relieved look with Jess, as Schmidt came over to his side and leaned down towards the baby in Nick's arms.

"Hello, child. I'm your godfather, Winston Schmidt. To avoid confusion, it'll be just Uncle Schmidt for you. And I will make sure that you don't get your father's terrible manners and your mother's madly colourful taste in clothes. I will groom you to be the perfect Reginald-"

"Schmidt!"

"Okay, fine, tomorrow," he said dismissively, ignoring Jess's outraged comment at her fashion tastes and Nick's annoyance.

And they do discuss it the next day. Schmidt would like to believe he has a way with words, but he was just being really annoying the whole time, even throwing a temper tantrum topping one of Ruth's worst.

Besides, the more Nick and Jess thought about it, Reginald, didn't seem like such a terrible name. Reggie did seem to have a nice ring, after all.


	6. Post S07: Dad Nick

It was days like this where Nick really questioned his life choices. As he sleepily dragged himself down the hallway towards the nursery, he tried to recall why they had thought having a third child would be a good idea, the wails of little Lily echo through the house. He loved the girl but she oddly cried only in the middle of the night; she'd never shed a single tear throughout the day.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he trudged into the nursery and chuckled tiredly when he saw Five-year-old Charlie glaring at him from under the blanket. Two-year-old Walt had long left his bed to squeeze himself between Nick and Jess, now sound asleep tucked into his mother's arms.

He walked over to the crib and swooped down to pick up the crying baby, whose wails dropped down to merely sniffles. He smiled at her, rocking her gently as she started to coo at him. Her little hand reached out to tap his cheek and he kissed the inside of her palm, smiling through his exhaustion. Nothing smelled out of place, so Nick was unsure what was wrong; murmuring soothingly to her, he walked over to the window and pointed in the direction of the softly falling snow.

The baby's gaze followed the direction of his hand, and seconds later she was drinking in the sight of the white snow that slowly descended on the sleeping city. Blue eyes widening just like her mother's, she stretched her hands in the direction of the snows and laughing softly, he opened the window ever so slightly.

Crouching so he was eye level with the window sill, he gently guided her hand outside, waiting till a snowflake landed on it. She giggled as she drew her hand back and thrust it in Nick's face, grinning up at him.

Chuckling softly, he stood up again and closing the window, settled in the chair in front of it. He heard the soft sound of footsteps and seconds later Charlie had his chin resting on Nick's shoulder to look at Lily. They stayed that way for sometime before Charlie walked over to stand in front of Nick, eyes still on his sister.

"Can I hold her?" he asked, voice low.

Nick nodded and after telling Charlie how to hold her, he passed her over to him, placing his own hands right underneath Charlie's to steady his small, nervous hands. He watched quietly as Lily's slightly confused expression changed to into a smile.

"She's so tiny," he marvelled, looking up at Nick with wonder in his eyes.

Nick nodded knowingly, and watched as Lily's hand closed around Charlie's fingers. Grinning, he looked up at Nick as he leaned back in the chair, elbow on the armrest and palm supporting his cheek while he watched his children.


End file.
